Breakfast for Nagito
by greenful
Summary: Hajime walked down the halls of the old building next to the hotel, and finally found himself facing the one door he didn't want to go through. Beyond that door, he would encounter Nagito, chained and helpless, but no less creepy. Hajime took a sharp breath, steeled himself, and opened the door.


Hajime sighed a deep, sorrowful sigh, his forehead leaning firmly against the wall. Why had he agreed to this? What had he been thinking? He turned around and, leaning against the wall, slid to the ground. The plate of toast and glass of milk sat innocently beside him. Hajime glared at them, but in the end, the breakfast was not at fault. He wasn't quite sure who to blame, but it certainly wasn't the poor platter that got him in this situation. Mahiru or Nagito? Who to blame? Mahiru for pushing the problem onto him, or Nagito for being such a problem to Mahiru? Regardless, there Hajime was, outside the old building next to the hotel. He stood, picked up the food, and walked, resigned, inside.

It wasn't actually too bad in there. Whatever anyone had to say about Nagito (and there was a lot to say about Nagito) it could never be said that he didn't put his heart and soul into everything he did. Anyway, back before Nagito had acted so strangely in the class trial, back during the party, there wasn't really anything to complain about in regards to the old building. It was clean, and the party decorations were even well designed. Nonetheless, Hajime couldn't retrieve those feelings of comfort and kinship from the party. After the murder, and everything Nagito had said, Hajime couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with the idea of seeing Nagito.

He walked down the halls, and finally found himself facing the one door he didn't want to go through. Beyond that door, he would encounter Nagito, chained and helpless, but no less creepy. Hajime took a sharp breath, steeled himself, and opened the door.

"Ah, Hajime. First Mahiru visiting, and now you! It's comforting to know that you Ultimates seem to care enough for garbage like me that you would go out of your way not only to visit me, but to bring me food. Trash like me is truly undeserving of the attention of great people like you." Nagito's voice, as always, was unsettlingly calm, and his face kept its usual little smile. Even his body seemed relaxed, despite the chains confining his hands and feet. He tried to wave a greeting, but with his hands tied behind his back, it was more a sort of awkward wriggling motion.

"Don't get the wrong idea. They had the right idea when they tied you up. But… we don't need any more deaths. After that nightmare of a class trial, we can't have anybody else die. So, here. Don't starve." Hajime placed the food and drink as far away from Nagito as he could manage, with the nutrients still within Nagito's reach, then turned and tried to leave as quickly as he could.

"Oh, Hajime," Nagito called out just as Hajime was at the doorway.

"Yes, Nagito?" Hajime clenched his fists.

"Not to bother you. Obviously, you have much more important things to do than spend time with someone as worthless as me. But… if it's not too much trouble…"

"What is it, Nagito?"

"You see, I can't really eat this."

"What's wrong with it? Didn't you already send Mahiru away because you didn't feel like eating rice?"

"No, no, no Hajime. I'm tremendously grateful for the food, but… My hands are tied. I actually can't eat this."

Hajime's eyes widened. He knew immediately what Nagito was after. So he stalled. "And? What do you want me to do about it?"

Nagito broke out in his usual genial smile. "Could you feed me, Hajime?"

Hajime felt thoroughly cold. His limbs felt dead. Not only had he been forced to interact with Nagito, but now forced to feed him?

"After all, you wouldn't want any more of us to die, right Hajime? I understand if starving me is your path to ultimate hope, but don't you wonder if Monokuma will call this a murder? Not that I care about a life as pitiful as my own. I just want to be sure you know what you're doing."

Hajime grit his teeth. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed deeply. Resigned to his fate, he approached Nagito. "Alright, let's get this over with."

"Ah, Hajime. It warms me to the depths of my heart that an Ultimate like you would do such an embarrassing task for me. You know, I'm actually kind of glad Mahiru flaked on getting the food to me. I'm sure she'd never have put up with doing something like this for me."

Hajime, of course, didn't want to put up with it either, but what could he do? He sat, cross-legged, across from Nagito. He picked up the toast, and held it just in front of Nagito's face. Nagito took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. Hajime would have sworn that Nagito was careful to eat as slowly as possible. Eventually, the toast was gone.

"Can I leave now?"

"Hajime, a drink. I'm parched. They say you die from thirst before you would from hunger." So Hajime put the glass to Nagito's lips. It was an awkward business, and by the time the glass was empty, there was milk all over Nagito's face.

"Idiot. You spilled so much." Hajime drew a small napkin from his pocket, and wiped Nagito's face. Hajime had to get closer, the light wasn't so great in that room, and he wanted Nagito clean so he couldn't complain about it. To keep Nagito's face from getting moved around too much by his rough drying, Hajime put a hand around the back of Nagito's head. Just for stability, of course. At the end, their foreheads were nearly touching. Of course, only so Hajime could do this thoroughly.

"Thank you, Hajime. I'd have had a tough time getting Mahiru to do something so… intimate with me." Nagito blushed, and looked away. He fidgeted the way he had during the trial, when he was rambling about hope, and being a stepping stone. "Could this physical intimacy be the key to true hope? Thank you for showing me the way, Hajime!"

Hajime straightened up immediately. "Moron, I was just doing it so you couldn't complain about a dirty face later. That's it." Then, before Nagito could say another word, Hajime turned around, and vacated the room. As he left, he thanked his extraordinary willpower for being able to hold back the red-hot blush across his face until after he'd left. He'd never hear the end of it from Nagito if he had seen Hajime's reaction.

* * *

Author's Note: Aagh, I am such KomaHina trash. Save me.


End file.
